


warm me up (and breathe me)

by irridesca



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: (but happy), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blow Jobs, Caretaking, Daddy Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Infidelity, Marriage of Convenience, Pseudo-Incest, Rey is 20 and Ben is 38, Reylo Kinkuary, Sensual Sunscreen Application, Sexual Tension, Step-Daughter Rey, Step-Parent Ben Solo, Step-father/Step-Daughter, sugar daddy if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:20:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irridesca/pseuds/irridesca
Summary: Rey comes home for Spring Break and is excited about the prospect of having the house to herself. Little does she know, her stepfather, Ben, is also coming home from a business trip earlier than he expected.Thankfully, she's always enjoyed his company.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 51
Kudos: 529
Collections: Kinkuary Prompt Challenge





	warm me up (and breathe me)

**Author's Note:**

> My first contribution to Reylo Kinkuary.
> 
> Thank you to Sam, Ana, Becca, and Ericka for the beta! 
> 
> This is my first time writing this kink, so let me know what y'all think <3

The sun felt particularly spiteful on that warm Tuesday morning in March as it blasted through dark wooden blinds, merciless in its effort to wake even the heaviest of sleepers.

Its current victim was Rey, who typically slept like the dead, but even she wasn’t strong enough to withstand the rouse of the flooding light as it filled her old bedroom. 

When she lived here, lavender-striped curtains lined the windows and allowed her to sleep past noon, but her mother had wasted no time in converting the space into a guest room and doing away with her treatments once she’d left for college. 

She slapped her forearm over her eyes and groaned as the brightness leaked in—it didn’t help that she also had a raging hangover that was pounding against her skull and gurgling low in her stomach. The haphazard mix of tequila shots and bottles of red wine were punishing her now, threatening to split her in half if she made any sudden movements. 

A knock on her door forced another agonized groan to sound in her throat. 

“Rey?” a male voice asked, and Rey flew up at the sound, wincing when a delayed pain reached her head. She wasn’t expecting _that_ voice—not when her mother had texted a couple of days prior to her arrival that her stepfather would be out of town on business for most of her visit. _He’s got a lot going on in Seattle this quarter_ , she’d explained.

So much for having the house to herself for a couple of days. 

“Yeah?” she rasped, her voice weak and scratchy. 

“I’m about to fry up a couple of eggs,” his muffled voice said. “Can I make you some?” 

“Oh,” Rey stuttered. “Sure. Thanks.” 

“Scrambled with cheese, right?” 

Rey bit her lip. “Yeah.” 

“You got it.”

She listened to his footsteps, letting out a long exhale once they went quiet. Ben was a good guy—had been nothing but nice been since he married Rey’s mom three years ago. They were friends from college, but weren’t romantic until things started to go south with Rey’s father, and then Ben had miraculously swooped in and pulled them both out of that dangerous situation. The marriage allowed them to stay in Charleston where he made a comfortable living as an attorney and owned a house on a half acre. It was this house, with the lavender curtains, that Rey had completed her junior and senior year of high school, though it took her six months longer than everyone else due to her transfer from the UK. It was here that she’d had her first kiss in the driveway, and here that she’d stood with friends in her prom dress in front of the fireplace, and here that she’d studied for the SATs at the kitchen table until two in the morning. 

Her mother hadn’t been around much—she’d chosen to work multiple jobs despite Ben’s insistence that they didn’t need extra income. Since Rey was old enough to take care of herself by then, she hadn’t felt the need to be present during her last couple of teenage years. They saw each other in passing at night sometimes, when Rey was packing up her homework at the end of the evening and her mother was getting in from a double shift at the mall. 

Ben was the one that helped her study. He was the one who taught her how to drive the American way, and helped her through applying for colleges—not blinking when he handed over his Amex so she could pay all of the hefty fees. He was the one who cooked her dinner and made sure she always had lunch money, and on days when she slept through her alarm and missed the bus, he was the one who drove her to school. 

Things weren’t much different now, except that Rey’s mom wasn’t working odd entry-level jobs anymore—she’d managed to work her way up at the software company where she’d started as a receptionist and now was managing a team that was spread across the state. She traveled often and worked long hours when she was home, even when Rey drove the four hours it took to get from Clemson to Charleston. She hadn’t been there when Rey had gotten in the night before, nor had she woken her up when she’d left for work the following morning. 

Rey pulled on a pair of sleep shorts from her duffel bag and walked into the kitchen, observing Ben’s wide back as he faced the stove, pushing her eggs back and forth with a spatula. He was in jeans and a black t-shirt, and his briefcase was spread out across the island, a stack of papers sitting precariously at the edge. She walked forward curiously, eyes scanning over documents she didn’t understand. Dissolution— _alimony?_

He turned around and Rey jumped. The spatula was upright in his fist as he looked from her to the documents, which he moved to shove quickly back into his leather briefcase. He set the now-closed bag on one of the stools that lined the island and nodded in Rey’s direction, smiling nervously.

“Hey, Rey,” he murmured. “Good morning.” 

Rey returned the nod, leaning against the counter. “Hey. Smells good in here.” 

“Should be ready any second. Wanna set the table for me?” 

She pushed off the marble and set forth on the task, placing two cloth napkins and sets of cutlery on the table in the breakfast nook. There was a formal dining room on the other side of the wall, but they only ate in there for holidays or birthdays. 

Rey poured them both a glass of orange juice and sat to the left of Ben’s place at the head of the table and waited, her fingers interlocked in her lap. He was behind her not long after, scraping a heaping pile of cheesy eggs onto her plate and then scooping out the rest for himself. A plate full of buttered toast was placed in the middle of the table and Rey’s mouth watered as the smells hit her nose. He set two jars of jelly next to the plate and sat down, pulling his napkin into his lap. 

“Thanks for this,” Rey said sincerely. She’d missed his cooking. 

“Don’t mention it. Eggs are a well-known cure for hangovers. So is butter,” he claimed, jutting his chin toward the bread. The tips of her ears felt a little hot and she ducked her chin as she reached forward and grabbed a piece. Ben picked up two for himself and chuckled. 

“Rey.”

She picked her head up guiltily. 

“You’ll be twenty-one in a few months. I think it’s okay to indulge sometimes, as long as you’re safe about it. Did you drive?” he asked as he scraped strawberry jam over a triangle of toast.

Rey shook her head. “I Ubered there and back.” 

“Alright then,” he nodded, and that was the end of that. 

Feeling herself relax at his words, Rey’s raging hunger started to resettle in her belly, and it was all she could do not to inhale the contents of her plate. She picked up her fork and scooped as much cheesy goodness as she could onto its prongs before shoving it into her mouth, failing at containing the indecent _moan_ that escaped her throat when the flavor hit her tongue. 

“Oh my god,” she whined, eyes falling shut. 

Through her dramatic exclamation, she heard Ben clear his throat. “Good?” he asked quietly. 

Rey nodded, eyes still shut. “Amazing. I missed your cooking.” 

Slowly, her eyes blinked open, and she found Ben staring at her. More specifically, he was staring at her mouth and her throat, his eyes seemingly unable to find a place to settle. 

He swallowed thickly and Rey watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Oh,” he managed, voice slightly squeakier than before. “That’s nice to hear. Thanks, Rey.” 

She took another bite, eyeing him curiously as he watched the fork travel from her plate to her mouth. Ben seemed entranced by the way she chewed, and Rey tilted her head in confusion. 

“Is there—is something on my face?” she asked, brows knitting together. 

This seemed to pull him back from whatever daze he’d been caught in, and he cleared his throat and immediately shook his head. “No, no,” he urged, reaching for his own fork and shoving two large bites into his mouth. “Sorry,” he mumbled through the food. 

They finished the meal with a few meager attempts at small talk, but mostly in companionable silence. Three eggs and four pieces of toast later, Rey was full and satisfied. She stood from her chair and stretched, not paying any mind to the way her sleep shirt rode up her torso as her arms reached upward. The baby pink thong she’d slept in poked out of her rolled cotton shorts, but she didn’t notice any of that until she peeked down and saw Ben’s eyes widening with panic. 

If he was planning to scold her, the words died in his throat. Rey kept her arms up despite being done with the stretch, linking her fingers together and pushing her pelvis out slightly, curious in a strange way to see if he would react to that, too. 

When he did, nostrils flaring and jaw clenching, Rey tilted her head slightly once again, though this time more with fascination than confusion. 

Suddenly, Ben was backing up from his chair, turning his body away from her to reach for his briefcase. “I’ve uh—I have to get to the office—” he mumbled, peeking back to the table without turning around. “Just leave those. I’ll take care of them later. Bye, Rey. Be good.” 

And then he was practically speed walking out of the house, not even bothering to lock the door behind him. 

  
  


* * *

That night, her mom came home for dinner. It was the only night that week that she’d be able to eat dinner with Rey—she’d made that very clear from the moment Rey told her she was getting kicked off of campus for spring break. Ben made tacos with delicious al pastor and rice and beans that tasted like they were from a restaurant. Rey stuffed herself full of everything and didn’t hold back on the complimentary sighs and remarks in Ben’s direction. 

“How is school going?” her mom asked, though her eyes were on the iPad that sat next to her plate. She was scrolling endlessly through her inbox as she held a half-eaten taco in her free hand.

“Good,” Rey replied honestly. “I aced all of my midterms. Even English.” 

“No kidding?” Ben said happily, a goofy smile on his face when Rey tore her eyes from her mom to look at him. Of course he’d be excited—he was the one that had been there to help her through every frustrating persuasive essay, every two-thousand word book report, every test question from her SAT prep book. He knew that she hated English and writing. He was practically _elated_. 

Rey nodded proudly. “Yeah. 92 out of 100 on my final essay.” 

“Holy hell, Rey. That’s amazing,” he said, looking somewhat astonished. 

She heard the _click_ of her mom’s iPad screen locking and looked over to find her staring between the two of them. “That’s great, honey,” she remarked evenly, no trace of genuine excitement in her tone. “I know you’ve always struggled a bit academically.” 

A retort bubbled up in Rey’s throat but was silenced by Ben getting there first, the look of joy on his face fading into one of confusion. “She has not.” 

Rey rolled her lips together, eyes trained on her mother’s face. She was looking at Ben, pursing her lips. “Are you trying to tell me I don’t know my own daughter?” 

He shook his head calmly. “That’s not at all what I’m saying," he countered. "I’m just arguing in her defense. You’re extremely intelligent,” he said, turning to Rey. “Once you figure something out, you’re unstoppable. You learn things top-to-bottom. See the whole picture.” 

The praise felt like a balm to her nerves, like a cool splash of water against her heated cheeks. Her mother always had a way of making her second-guess herself—academically and otherwise—and no one had ever come to her aid so outright before, not even her stepfather, who’d always been kind and helpful to her, but never seemed fond of challenging the status quo. 

“Well, you’re obviously quite the expert, aren’t you?” her mother deadpanned, shaking her head. “I’m sorry—I’m not even hungry anymore,” she grumbled, grabbing her half-full plate and walking toward the trash can. She dumped the food inside and let the top slam in its descent, tossing her silverware into the sink with a loud _clank_. Behind her, Rey felt soft hands grasp her shoulders. They squeezed lightly, and she felt her mother lean forward to kiss the top of her head. 

“I really am proud of you, baby girl. And I’m happy you’re home. I’m just tired,” she leaned down further and pressed a kiss to her temple. Rey didn’t move, but gave her a tight-lipped smile in return. “I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?” 

Rey nodded, and then her mother walked away, not sparing a single word for Ben. 

When the bedroom door slammed shut, she looked to her right to see his eyes lingering on the hallway where her mother had disappeared. He looked nervous, but unsurprised by her behavior. 

“What’s up with her?” 

Ben’s eyes drifted quickly back to Rey. “Your mom works hard,” he said, returning his attention back to his food. “She hardly has time to breathe, let alone sit down for dinner.” 

“Doesn’t seem like she’s very happy,” Rey remarked quietly, pushing her rice back and forth with her fork. “I’ve never heard her talk to you like that before.” 

Ben sighed. “It’s okay. She just gets frustrated with me sometimes.” 

Rey’s next question rose in her gut and fell from her lips before it had a chance to go through the _rationalizing_ part of her brain, which would have surely cut her off at the pass. 

“Do you still love her?” 

He was scooping a spoonful of diced pineapple into his taco when he stilled completely, slowly setting the utensil onto his plate. His eyes stayed there, looking downward, and she watched a resigned smile fold onto his mouth. 

“It’s complicated, Rey,” he said quietly. “I care about you and your mom a lot. That’s never going to change.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Finally, he looked at her. “What’s going on between your mom and me is our business, okay?” he said gently, not wanting to spear her with his reprimand. “Just trust me when I tell you that everything is going to be okay. No matter what happens.” 

Rey bit the inside of her cheek, wanting to argue, but she refrained. Ben seemed so _tired_ , deflated almost since her mother had chastised him like a child. She wanted to know if it was like that when she wasn’t around to provoke her anger, if Ben was living under the same roof as someone that always looked at him with such disdain. 

“I just think you deserve that,” she said softly, leaning forward onto her elbows. 

Ben gave her a curious look. 

“To be married to someone you love. Everyone does.” 

His eyes softened at her words, and he leaned forward slightly, too. His chest seemed to rise and fall a little deeper now, and his dark eyes searched hers. 

“Thank you, Rey,” he said finally, in nearly a whisper. “You’ve got such a big heart, don’t you?” he asked incredulously as he shook his head. There was something in his face that she couldn’t put her finger on—but it looked suspiciously like wonder. 

“I try to,” she replied. 

“You succeed, sweetheart,” he said softly, leaning forward again almost imperceptibly. 

A heavy silence settled between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of something else—a feeling Rey couldn’t decipher, but it was similar to that curiosity she’d felt earlier at breakfast, when she’d practically _thrust_ the most sensitive part of herself closer to him just to see what he would do. 

It was new and wrong and weird in every way she could think of—but that didn’t change the fact that the attention felt good, that his eyes had looked darker, his lids heavier as he stared at her bare skin, his gaze traveling down to the place that was still covered by her shorts. It didn’t feel disgusting or inappropriate like she might’ve imagined it would, thinking about Ben thinking about her like that. He was handsome—always had been—and he had big hands and shoulders and his lips looked soft when he pouted, which was often. He was also kind, attentive, protective and generous with her in ways no one ever had been before, including her own parents. He paid her tuition and insisted on getting her a credit card so she wouldn’t need a part time job. 

He took care of her better than anyone. 

It made her ache in her chest to think that no one was taking care of him. 

  
  


* * *

  
  


Charleston in Springtime had the tendency to be too chilly for poolside days, so when Rey woke up around eleven the following day and saw that the temperature was nearing eighty, she knew she’d need to take full advantage. Immediately, she slipped on her neon green bikini and made for the lounge chairs that surrounded the inground pool in the backyard, a novel tucked under one arm and a towel hanging over the other. 

It was nice, being home—especially when she was alone and had free reign of the house, could sleep until almost noon and eat Cheetos and strawberry mochi until she felt sick. 

She settled into a chair that seemed to be the sun’s main target, and once she was properly horizontal with her eyes screwed shut, she sighed contentedly as its rays started to beat down onto her skin. The sun had been teasing all of South Carolina for the past month, coming out for minutes at a time when everyone was stuck inside in class or at work, and then returning to its hiding place behind thick, depressing rain clouds. Rey was paler than she’d ever been in her life—she’d applied sunscreen on all the places she could reach, hoping that her back was covered enough that she could get a bit of color on it to bring out her freckled skin. 

After a half hour of starting the same sentence over and over again, she gave up on the book and bent the chair all the way back, choosing to focus instead on her tan and let the sun exhaust her into a nap. She rolled over, reaching to pull the strings of her bikini loose. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep until a deep, concerned voice broke her from her slumber. 

“Rey.” 

Slowly, her eyes blinked open, and she turned to see Ben standing at the back door, a tiny scowl causing a wrinkle to form in his brow. 

Rey’s eyebrows lifted in question, and he tilted his head. “You’re starting to burn.” 

Rey glanced over her shoulder and could see a pale red starting to bloom on her skin. She’d lost track of how much time she’d spent out there and was obviously overdue for another round of sunscreen. She became all too aware of how little she was wearing but didn’t move to cover herself. Instead, she rested her chin against her palm and asked, “What are you doing home?” 

“Lunch break.” 

She nodded, lips pursed. “Thought I’d work on my tan while it’s hot enough.”

“You, uh—” Ben cleared his throat, his eyes darting from the hanging bikini string back to her own. “Looks like you might need to reapply.” 

Maybe it was the heat, coupled with the fact that she’d had literally no water, but that strange, troublesome curiosity started to flare again as he struggled to find somewhere for his eyes to land. He swallowed hard, and Rey found that she was starting to enjoy the way his throat looked when he did that. Like he was trying desperately to push something down. 

It made her feel mischievous and powerful all at once, the way she seemed to stir something within him by simply existing. She pushed herself up until she was leaning against her elbows, and her biceps were blocking her breasts from his direct line of sight, but the move wasn’t lost on him—Rey watched as he seemed to stand up a little straighter. 

“Will you get me?” she asked, eyes flitting to the bottle of lotion sitting on the concrete. 

“Rey—” he attempted, but the grin she broke into at the sight of his hesitation stopped him in his tracks. She reached forward and grabbed the tube, then put on the best pout she could manage. 

“I can’t reach back there. That’s why I’m burning in the first place.” 

After a long moment, Ben’s eyes narrowed. Slowly, he pushed off the door and walked over to her, jerking his chin so she’d make room for him to sit down. 

She did, and he settled in beside her, his long legs nearly grazing his chin as they bent up to accommodate him. Without a word, he held a hand out to her, and Rey dropped the lotion onto his massive palm. He was still in what he’d worn to work—but now the sleeves of his light blue button down were rolled up to his elbows and there were wrinkles in the fabric at his shoulders. His face, his entire demeanor looked tired, and she wanted to ask him about his day, to know why he looked like he was ready to deflate at any second. 

But then Ben’s hands were on her, spreading the cool substance over her skin, and all attempts at conversation became completely futile. She watched with her mouth slightly agape as those hands that were as big as dinner plates spread the lotion liberally. He was gentle and firm simultaneously, pressing the pads of his thumbs into the small of her back and dragging them up her ribcage, careful to move toward the center as he got closer to her exposed breasts. At her shoulders, he took his time, rubbing it in with the heels of his palms and letting the tips of his fingers graze the back of her neck, where sweaty hair lay matted against her skin. Rey shivered as his nails grazed the top of her spine—she found herself suppressing an overwhelming urge to arch into his touch, to reveal more of herself to him so that he might risk giving more of himself to her. She found that she suddenly wanted his hands to touch her everywhere. 

Rey let her head fall forward as Ben continued his ministrations, focusing again on her mid-back. It was intoxicating, knowing that his hands could encompass the entirety of her waist if she lifted herself up a bit and gave him the room to try. She felt his knuckles press firmly and unexpectedly into the dimples on her lower back, and she couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips at the pressure. It slipped out like a heartbeat, breathless and satisfied. 

She heard—and felt—Ben shift beside her. He cleared his throat again, and she worried for a moment that he’d stop, that he’d realize this was inching into a territory they could never return from, but he didn’t. Instead, she heard him open the bottle again and hissed when she felt more of the cold lotion atop her warm skin. His hands returned soon after, and this time, when he moved them up her ribcage, he was less hesitant as he spread them as wide as they’d go, grazing the sides of her breasts with his fingertips.

A similar noise erupted from both of them. It was more of a grunt than a moan, more of a growl than a sigh. Rey’s eyes flew open and Ben’s hands stilled, and in that moment, she knew that nothing was going to be the same ever again. Now that she’d felt his hands on her body, she wanted only for more—to feel his thick, gentle fingers everywhere—for him to knead her tiny breasts with his big palms. 

“We—this can’t—” Ben stuttered, removing his hands before Rey could urge him to keep going. 

Rey bit her bottom lip roughly, nodding. She couldn’t look at him. “I’m sorry—I just—” 

“No, I’m sorry. I got carried away—God, I’m so sorry, Rey,” he said, and she could feel it when the chair lost the weight of him—when he stood up and rushed off, leaving her alone. 

Only once she heard the patio door slide did she turn her head, and found that he’d left her sticky with lotion that he hadn’t rubbed in.   
  


* * *

It was well past midnight when Rey woke from a fitful sleep.

Inside the house, the hours following the sunscreen situation had been tense. She’d abandoned her post for a shower not long after he’d retreated inside, and if she walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her head and only a sports bra and tiny black spandex shorts to cover her up, well that was her business. 

It’s not like she’d _known_ that Ben would be in the kitchen making himself something to eat, but when she watched as he dropped the wooden spoon onto the skillet he’d been manning at the sight of her, a tiny smirk spread on her lips. She didn’t acknowledge him any further—simply walked into her bedroom and quietly shut the door. 

Now, she was restless, having only managed to fall into a fever dream-like sleep for a couple of hours. The second her eyes closed, she’d been plagued with visions of big, warm hands and plush pink lips, and his eyes had drifted at the forefront of her consciousness—burning with need and the color of hot honey.

Seconds after she blinked her eyes open, she realized she was wet. 

Not only was she wet, she was also nearly panting, and her nipples were hard as rocks against the big t-shirt she’d worn to bed. The room was pitch black and silent, save for the low hum of what was unmistakably the television in the living room, accompanied by a blue glow that was shining in the space between her door and the floor. Her phone revealed that it was nearly two, and she wondered who might be watching television so quietly at this hour. It couldn’t have been her mother—she’d gotten in around ten and went straight to bed after pressing an apologetic kiss to Rey’s cheek. 

That left only one other person, and the thought of him, mere feet away in the living room, probably shirtless (she’d lived under the same roof as him long enough to know that he went shirtless to bed) and sprawled out on the couch, channel surfing in the dark, made her belly clench with heat and anticipation. It was a high that she couldn’t seem to get enough of—pushing the boundaries with him at any given opportunity. 

Rey swung her legs over the bed and stood, padding across her bedroom to the door. She was bare except for the shirt that hung to her knees, looking at her chipped toenail polish in the residual light of the television as she walked into the living room. What she didn’t expect to find was him asleep on the couch, with a sheet spread out over the cushions beneath him and a comforter covering his lower half. His mouth was open as he slept, his head propped up on a pillow that lay against the armrest. He didn’t look _uncomfortable,_ but he surely seemed like he’d fit better on the California king that she knew was in the master bedroom. 

Things between Ben and her mother were clearly more deteriorated than either of them had let on if he was sleeping on the couch—the bedding led her to believe it definitely wasn’t the first time—and something twisted in her chest at the thought of him out there every night, legs hanging over the back and neck clearly at an angle that would smart in the morning. 

She stepped further into the room quietly with the intention of sitting at the opposite end and watching whatever show was on until she drifted back to sleep, but his eyes blinked open before she could make it another foot. Rey stilled, and for a moment, neither of them said anything. They held each other’s gaze, the bright flashes of the TV reflecting in the darkness of Ben’s eyes, and she could feel her cheeks start to heat. 

“What are you doing?” he asked softly, voice wrecked with sleep. 

Rey took another step toward the couch and said, “I can’t sleep.” 

He didn’t respond, but his eyes followed her as she reached the couch. She managed to get comfortable in the small space that he wasn’t occupying, and she tucked her legs underneath her bottom and leaned against the armrest. With a sigh, she asked, “What are _you_ doing?” 

“I was sleeping.” 

“I meant out here. On the couch.” 

Another beat of quiet where he just searched her face passed, and then he swallowed thickly and said, “This is where I sleep most nights. Unless she’s traveling.” 

The ache in her chest throbbed. She wanted to know more about it, to understand why he was still married to her—why he married her in the first place—but she didn’t exactly want to talk about her mother. Not when Ben _was_ in fact shirtless and she was close enough to touch him, curled up on the couch and basking in the strong smell of his Old Spice body wash. 

So she didn’t press. Instead, she looked toward the television and nodded in its direction. 

“Can we watch something else?” 

Ben reached forward for the remote that sat on the coffee table and tossed it lightly to her. 

She caught it and smiled at him. “Any requests?” 

He shook his head. “Whatever you want.” 

A rerun of Friends was playing on Nick-at-Nite, and she settled for that, setting the remote back down on the table. She leaned against the couch, head tilted back onto the cushion as Phoebe attempted to teach Joey how to speak French and the laugh track sounded, dulling the raging alarm of her thoughts as she breathed in and out, trying not to think about the sopping mess between her legs. 

Slowly, she turned to look at Ben, and found him with his head turned toward the TV. He wasn’t laughing, didn’t have much of an expression at all, but had moved his hands to rest behind his head, his elbows sticking out and revealing his massive, toned biceps. 

Rey gulped at the sight. 

Eventually, the episode ended, the credits rolled, and she decided that testing the waters another time was worth the risk. It felt like there were ants under her skin, making her itchy and squirmy from the second she’d awoken from that indecent dream. She needed to quell that feeling if she had any hope of returning to sleep, and it seemed like a valid option to at least _try_ to scratch the itch. Rey didn’t have any idea what that entailed, but she was more than ready to find out. 

The next episode started, and Rey moved to lay her body over Ben’s legs, draping herself atop the comforter without a word of warning. She felt him immediately tense. 

“Rey,” he said roughly. 

“I’m getting comfortable,” she huffed. “Don’t be a couch hog.”

She could feel his eyes on her, but she kept hers locked on the television, relishing in the feeling of using his muscled thigh as a pillow beneath the blanket. He didn’t argue further, and he didn’t move to push her off or re-situate himself. Rey took that as a sign that he was just as curious as she was, though perhaps not as brave or bold. That was fine. She would be brave for them both. 

It didn’t take long for her hand to drift under the covers, where she discovered that he was in sweatpants. Her fingertips grazed the soft material, scraping from just above his knee to his upper thigh, and she heard his breath catch in his throat. 

She peeked up at him for the first time since she’d sprawled on top of him. His jaw was tense, clenching and unclenching as his wide eyes looked at her, alarmed and burning all at once. His chest rose and fell heavily, and when her eyes drifted to the tent that had formed under the blanket, she bit her bottom lip at the sight, and she heard him let out a long, shuddering exhale. 

  
  


Her eyes flitted back to his. Slowly, she removed the blanket, leaving him bare except for the sweats that hung low on his hips. His arms were still secured behind his head; he was stiff—almost like he couldn’t possibly move any part of his body, except his tongue, which darted out to lick his lips. Rey’s cunt throbbed at the sight. 

Emboldened by his obvious interest, she looked at his erection again. 

“Do you want me to touch you?” she asked softly.

Another sharp exhale. “Do—do you want to touch me?” he asked earnestly. 

Rey looked at him again and held his eyes as she nodded. 

“I want to put my mouth on you.” 

Ben’s eyes slid closed and his mouth fell open as he jerked his hips almost imperceptibly upward. The reaction sent another shooting pang of arousal through her, and she resisted the urge to climb into his lap and ride against his bulge right then. 

“Have—” he stammered, sitting up slightly. “Have you done this before?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed. “Lots of times. You look bigger than anything I’ve seen, though.” 

“Fuck,” he breathed. 

Rey reached for the hem of his pants and pulled them down without ceremony as Ben lifted his hips to assist her. They were down to his knees, leaving him in a pair of grey briefs that showcased his size even better, the material practically stretched as far as it could go to accommodate him. Rey licked her lips, and Ben _whimpered_. 

“Are you—are you sure this is okay?” he rasped. 

She looked up at him as she went for the elastic band at the top of his underwear and started to peel it down. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Rey, I—” he shook his head, swallowing hard. “I don’t want to do anything that will make you uncomfortable. We can stop right now and pretend this never—” 

“I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to pretend.” 

His nostrils flared. “You don’t?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me, Ben.” She pulled the material further, her eyes practically lighting up as soon as his cock sprung free. Rey nearly _gulped_ as she inspected it, confirming her assumption ten times over that he was the biggest she’d ever seen. “I—” she trailed off, still entranced by his dick. “I want you to look at me like that. Wasn’t it obvious?” 

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I never thought you—” 

“I do,” she interrupted, and then leaned forward to lick a stripe from the bottom of his length all the way to the smooth, silky head. The tip of him was leaking already, and she cleaned him off with the flat of her tongue, eyes falling shut at the taste. 

“Oh, _fuck_.” He sighed, unable to stop the tiny jerk of his hips, pressing his cock harder against her tongue. Rey took it as encouragement, hoping that he’d fully fuck her mouth later, once she could get her throat used to him. 

With her lips tucked over her teeth, she took him entirely into her mouth, sucking down as far as she could manage on the first go. It wasn’t far, barely even halfway, but he made a choking sound anyway, and she smiled as much as she could with her mouth stuffed full of his cock. She started to bob up and down, using her hand to make up for the inches she couldn’t gulp down just yet. The drool that leaked from the corners of her mouth slicked his length and allowed her to easily perform a corkscrew motion with her hand as she sucked him off. 

“Rey, oh—” he gasped, and she opened her eyes to find him with his head thrown back against the armrest, mouth wide open and eyes shut. He looked wrecked, and it made that ache deep in her belly clench again, the sight of him so undone at her touch. 

She soldiered on, taking more of him with each pass, until eventually her nose brushed up against the curly hairs that framed the base of his shaft. He was groomed and smelled good, she thought idly, wishing that every guy she’d blown had the decency to trim his pubes before letting a girl go down on him. 

But those were boys. Silly, smelly, stupid boys. 

Ben was a man. He was a man with a cock the size of her forearm and he smelled like vetiver and vanilla. She was completely lost in him, in the sounds that he made as she sucked him off, in the way he seemed to be trying so desperately to keep his hips still. 

She pulled off of him and licked her lips again, breathing heavily. “You can touch me, if you want,” she said, eyes drifting to the hands that were still locked behind his head. 

He blinked at her in wonder, his face practically crumpling as she kept her eyes on his and sank her mouth back down, letting him hit the back of her throat as many times as she could manage. 

“Oh my God, your _mouth_ , Rey,” he wheezed, and a wave of beautiful satisfaction washed over her as she felt his hands tangle into her hair. They were soft but firm, just like he always was, and she could feel herself start to _drip_ onto the couch. Turning him on this way was making her wetter than she’d ever been in her life—her cunt ached with the need to be filled. 

Ben pushed gently on her head, guiding her in the way he wanted as she fucked him with her mouth, and Rey loved every second of it, but when his legs started to shake, she knew if there was any hope of sinking down on his cock tonight and riding him into oblivion, she should probably pull back now before he came down her throat. 

A tiny whine escaped his lips as she released him. Rey smirked. 

“I want to ride you. I want you to come inside me, not my mouth.” 

He looked like he was about to come right then and there, at her words. 

“I don’t—I don’t have anything.” He struggled, fingers still tangled in her hair. 

“I have an IUD.” 

Ben swallowed. “Are you sure?” 

Rey nodded, and started to climb up his body. His hands fell to her thighs, where his thumbs traced patterns over her skin. They were big enough that he didn’t have to move far before he was at her apex, and his face shifted into something like _awe_ when he realized she wasn’t wearing anything under her t-shirt. 

“God, you’re fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea what I’ve thought about doing to you.” 

She smiled, reaching down to grip him and align him with her soaking center. “Tell me,” she said, and sunk down onto him fully, her slick making it easy to fully sit on his cock in one go. 

“Shit,” Ben wheezed, gripping her hips roughly as she started to ride him. “I’ve wanted you like this—bouncing on my cock—since I saw you in those little shorts.” 

Rey’s eyes slid closed, letting his voice and his cock envelop her senses in a euphoria that she’d never known from sex. She’d been experimental and promiscuous during her senior year of high school and her first semester of college, but nothing compared to this. They’d all been quick, sweaty tangles of elbows and knees and she’d only come a handful of times, mostly by way of assisting herself. Her partners had been mediocre in their skills and their size, and Ben was putting them all to shame as he bounced her up and down, biting hard on his bottom lip and staring up at her like she knew the answers to all of his questions. 

“How do I feel?” she asked, feeling bold under his hands. 

“You’re fucking perfect, baby,” he said, one of his hands reaching up under her shirt to cup her breast.

Rey sighed, arching into his touch, and reached down to pull her shirt off completely. He stared at her bare chest, his face twisting up in pleasure. Both of his hands were on her then, plucking her nipples and causing little whines to escape her throat.

At one particularly hard tug, she cried out. “ _Daddy_.”

It left her mouth before she could stop it, that word that had been lingering in the back of her throat since the morning when everything changed. It felt wrong and terrible and bad and so _fucking_ good that she wanted to say it over and over again, especially when she felt his cock twitch inside of her at the sound. Rey opened her eyes to find his nearly black. 

It was unspoken, the question between them, but Rey knew the answer. 

“You like it when I ride you, don’t you, Daddy?” she breathed, and Ben’s mouth fell open with a moan. 

“Yes, baby. I love it.” 

His hand drifted downward until he found her mound, and Rey’s head fell back when he found her clit easily and started to rub slow, determined circles onto the bud. 

“I’m not gonna last, sweetheart,” he said, and Rey nodded frantically, reaching down to guide his hand in the way she needed to get there. 

The brink was approaching fast, the telltale signs of her orgasm were all over—her twitching fingers, her clenching abs, the way she started to pant with her mouth open as she bounced up and down on Ben’s cock. He’d abandoned her breast and was using his free hand to help her move, and she could see his face screwing up the closer he got to his own release. 

“Fill me up, Daddy.” 

The look on Ben’s face as she said those words was enough to send her catapulting over the edge. He fucked her through it—sending paralyzing waves of pleasure through her body—and it took literally every last bit of strength she had to not scream, or cry, or shout at the feeling as it coursed through her. It was unlike any orgasm she’d ever had—it felt like it was echoing, like the reverberations of it would never end, like she’d live in this pleasure forever. 

She heard Ben let out a long, shuddering moan as he came, filling her up with his spend as he gripped her tight enough to bruise. He was cursing, muttering a string of profanities with his eyes squeezed tightly shut, and she watched it all through hooded eyes, letting his obvious pleasure prolong her own orgasm. 

Eventually, Rey collapsed onto his chest. Ben’s arms wrapped around her, one fisting her hair and the other at her waist, and she could feel herself already starting to drift out of consciousness. His chest was heaving, taking her with him every time he inhaled and exhaled, and the cadence of it as it started to slow was soothing to her, making her eyelids heavy. 

His fingers ran through her hair, and she heard him whisper, “You’re incredible, Rey.” 

Rey grinned, turning her head and resting her chin on his chest. He was looking at her with unabashed fondness, and she wondered if her face was the same. 

“So are you.” 

His eyes softened even more. 

“We should probably talk about this,” he said softly. 

Rey nodded, but couldn’t bear the thought of ruining their perfect night with a conversation about consequences. She wanted to bask in the afterglow with him and pretend like they were just lovers, tangled up in each other after two insanely intense orgasms. 

“Can we talk about it tomorrow?” she asked, tightening her hold on him. 

Ben smirked. “Sure, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

In the morning, maybe she would be. But for now, she wanted to drift and lay against his chest without a care in the world for what the future might bring. 


End file.
